


you feel the mornin' feel

by shybear_styles



Series: i know you been lost, i'm glad you got found [4]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, but they love each other and they'll admit it eventually, charles is dumb, max is evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shybear_styles/pseuds/shybear_styles
Summary: “What’s so funny about that?” Charles asks with a mixture of confusion and unhappiness.“Oh, I guess it’s because I have it on good authority that you don’t think that.” Max says and sits up on the bed, making the covers fall down to his waist and getting an appreciative once-over that makes his blood rush south even faster than it already was. “In fact, I would say that I’m 100% sure that you find me, what was the word, pretty.”It’s so entertaining watching as Charles’ face flicks through embarrassment, confusion, realization and then even more embarrassment, that Max wants to laugh again.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Series: i know you been lost, i'm glad you got found [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026049
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	you feel the mornin' feel

**Author's Note:**

> I have buried myself so deep in the denial hole and nothing will get me out of here.  
> Things to know before reading this: Charles and Max are in Dubai with Lando to celebrate the New Year, enjoying their first month together and having Lando there to act as the Bro to make it look a little less homo in case people see them together. None of the events of the past couple of weeks has happened because this is fiction, goddammit, and I will not suffer here like I do in real life.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

_mate_ _  
_ _please tell me youve seen this_

Max stares at the phone screen for a few seconds, trying to figure out without clicking on the Twitter link that Lando sent if it’s another weird meme or embarrassing video. The younger driver sent the texts a little after 2am, about one hour after they went their separate ways in the hotel elevator and by then, Max was a little too busy fucking Charles into the mattress to care about his phone.

The aforementioned man is still asleep next to him, lying on his stomach and with his face buried in the pillows, arm thrown over Max’s chest. The covers are up to the middle of his back and the Dutchman already spent a few moments admiring the way the light coming from the large windows paints his pale skin a soft golden, urging Max to touch and kiss every inch.

They’ve only been dating for a month and started having sex only two weeks ago, waiting until the end of the season to properly enjoy each other, so Max still doesn’t know if Charles is the kind of person who likes to be woken up for sex; they’re only beginning to learn each other’s bodies and desires, still in the awkward stage of figuring out what works best and what doesn’t work at all to get them in the mood and satisfy them.

They’ve been doing alright so far, in Max’s opinion. They’re both young athletes who are very attracted to each other and it’s working out well for their blossoming sex life and growing relationship. They fit together so seamlessly and all the time spent ignoring their feelings only made it better when they finally decided to stop dancing around each other.

Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. After the whole thing about Charles thinking that Max was seeing a woman, and their argument back in Bahrain because of Max’s father, they were getting back on their feet and getting more comfortable with each other when the Sakhir GP happened and Charles managed to knock both of them out of the race in the opening lap.

Max was pissed, he can’t deny, but mostly he was disappointed, because with Lewis out of the race, there was a real chance of a win for him and even Charles was looking good for some decent points, perhaps even a podium, considering that Mercedes managed to royally fuck up both drivers and freed two places on the top positions. He tried to get a grip on his anger after his brief conversation with Charles by their crashed cars, giving some interviews and getting the hell out of the paddock as soon as possible.

He saw the end of the race in his hotel room, watching as Checo stepped onto the highest step and knowing that it was the moment that sealed Alex’s fate for the next year. He was sad, obviously, because he likes Alex and knows that the previous season hasn’t been easy on him, but life as an F1 driver, especially a Red Bull driver, isn’t for everybody.

He stayed in his room and thought about going to sleep, but knew he wouldn’t be able to, his sleep schedule completely fucked because of the night races, and settled for playing some FIFA, ignoring the little voice at the back of his head telling him to text Charles and talk to him.

A little over midnight someone knocked on his door and he knew right away who it was. Opening the door to find Charles, his face a strange blend of sheepish and assured, made Max feel a little weird inside. He let the other man in and sat back on the bed, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“I’m sorry about ruining your race,” The Ferrari driver began after a few moments, still standing a couple of steps away from Max. “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. You should have been on that podium today.”

“Yeah, I should…” The Dutchman watched as Charles seemed to shrink in on himself a little at his words. “And yeah, you fucked up.” The air seemed heavy with an unspoken ‘again’ and Max didn’t want that; he knew Charles was sorry for what happened and he didn’t want to drive the knife deeper into him.

“I should have paid more attention to Checo, I didn’t think that he’d come out right in front of me, but…” He seemed to catch himself, tripping a little over his words and taking a steadying breath, and his usual mask of indifference slipped over his face. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to apologize to you for what I did, which I did, so I’m going to leave you alone now.”

“You don’t have to leave.” Max said with surprise before the other driver could take a step back. “Your sleep schedule is probably as fucked as mine, we could hang out for a while. If you want.” He tacked on, feeling a little awkward.

Charles seemed to hesitate a little, looking at Max with an unsure look on his face, like he was waiting for something. Maybe he thought that Max would be mad at him for what happened, that they would argue and yell at each other.

“Have you eaten?” The Dutchman asked, trying to put his boyfriend - and didn’t that word make his stomach go all tingly and warm - a little more at ease. “We could order something, I’m getting kinda hungry… And then we can watch something on TV, if you want. Or maybe play some FIFA.”

His nervousness seemed to work, from the way that Charles’ shoulder relaxed a little, the furrow between his eyebrows lessening. The Monégasque mumbled a soft ‘okay’, nodding his head a couple of times before stepping closer to the bed and sitting down next to the Red Bull driver gingerly.

They talked briefly about what to order and, after putting the hotel phone down, Max turned to face the younger man, who was staring down at his legs a little morosely.

“Charles,” Max said gently and reached out to nudge him, leaving his hand resting on the leg closest to him. “You gotta let it go. I know you’re upset about the race, but shit happens. Learn from it and move on.”

“I fucked up so many things with that stupid move. I ruined your race, mine, my position in the Abu Dhabi race because they gave me a penalty and…” He closed his mouth before finishing and Max figured that whatever he was going to say was the real reason for his mood. 

“You can talk to me, babe.” He felt his face going a little warm after his words, but tried to power through it.

“I thought I had ruined us too.” He said in a low voice and Max pulled back in surprise. “I keep screwing up and I thought that you’d, I don’t know, decide that this is just not worth it.”

Max could only blink at him, even if Charles was still looking down. That was hardly the first time the other driver had said something about ruining their time together or relationship and it was starting to raise a few flags in Max’s mind about Charles’ emotional state, but the older driver was probably the last person to be able to judge or help someone when it came to emotions, so he decided to ignore those warnings again and focus on the present.

“I’m not going to break up with you because you made a mistake during a race, Charles. I was mad, yes, but I got over it and so should you.” He tried to be as reassuring as possible, squeezing Charles’ hand when it came up to hold his. “You’re going to have to do a lot worse than shoving me off the track to get rid of me.”

He lightened his tone as much as possible and watched as a small smile appeared on the younger man’s face.

“Let’s watch something before the food gets here, c’mon.” He pulled on the hand holding his and moved up the bed to sit against the pillows, pulling Charles with him. He got comfortable, raising his arm when the Ferrari driver stared at him like a lost puppy and let him arrange both of their bodies so they could sit pressed up together.

Charles relaxed as time went by and a couple of hours later they were having fun together, the Monégasque back to his usual goofy self and trying to distract Max to win at FIFA.

He’s brought back to the present by Charles mumbling something in French and trying to pull Max’s body closer to his. When it doesn’t work, the younger man simply moves until he can press his head against Max’s shoulder, somehow still asleep.

The older driver just looks at him for a few seconds before looking back at his phone, screen dark after he spent who knows how long lost in thought. He braces himself for whatever is coming and clicks on the link.

It turns out to be a tweet from some unknown account with just a video of what looks like one of Ferrari’s honestly embarrassing challenges. He’ll never admit it to Charles, but he’s watched all of the videos and found himself ridiculously endeared by his boyfriend’s inability to function properly when faced with a challenge. Or Sebastian. 

But this looks like a new one, so he lowers the volume on his phone and lifts it up to hear what is being said without risking waking Charles up.

Right away Charles’ voice appears, sounding kind of nervous and asking if someone is pretty, he thought Sebastian had said British, and some other jangled up words that Max can’t make out. He looks back at the phone and sees that there’s a picture of him in the video and _oh,_ this is going to be good.

Raising the phone again, he catches Charles stumbling over his words even more than usual and giving a weird laugh before saying “well, yes… I mean, I guess you could say yes. Yes, he is.” Sebastian laughs and asks if he thinks that Max is pretty and the Dutchman can _hear_ how flustered Charles is while stumbling over a “yes”.

The audio stops and he plays the video again, this time looking at the phone and watching their reactions; Charles is moving in his chair like he wants to run out of there, adjusting his mask every three seconds and moving his arms around while Seb stares at him with what must be the most amused anyone has ever managed to look while wearing sunglasses and a mask.

Max’s chest feels a little funny and he can feel that he’s smiling like an idiot, but he doesn’t even care; Charles called him _pretty_ in front of a camera, in a Ferrari challenge that is going to be watched by thousands of people and Max will never stop making fun of him for this, even if it’s sort of sweet.

He spares a few seconds to think about how his father might react to this if he comes across it and pushes it out of his mind. They’re enjoying each other and some much needed time off right now and Max is not going to start the New Year worrying about his father instead of having fun with his boyfriend and their friend in Dubai.

He plays the video twice more, the smile never leaving his face, and is about to watch it again _like a fool_ when the arm across his chest moves at the same time that Charles says something, voice muffled against his arm. Max locks his phone and waits to see if the other driver is still sleeping or finally waking up.

The Monégasque pulls back a little, eyes squinted and looking up at Max.

“Morning, pretty boy.” He can’t resist saying it and feels a surge of glee as he watches Charles’ clearly still half-asleep brain trying to process his words. He’s just blinking at Max and there’s a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “Took you long enough, even I woke up a while before you did.”

“I was tired,” He says slowly and gets interrupted by a yawn, stretching his body quite nicely.

“That’s fair, I wore you out last night, didn’t I?” Max says cheekly and runs his eyes over the expanse of skin on display right next to him.

“Eh, you were okay.” Charles shoots back, waking up a little more. He moves until he’s laying completely on his back, raising his arms to place them underneath his head and bending a knee, making the covers slide down to reveal one of his legs and pool over his lap.

This fucker is the stuff wet dreams are made of and he _knows it._ Max licks his suddenly dry lips and runs his eyes over Charles’ body, stopping at the marks he left over the last two days that they have been in Dubai on vacation. They booked separate rooms, but that lasted for a great amount of 5 minutes, until they both stopped at the door to Max’s room and the Dutchman dragged Charles inside with him and made both of them late for dinner with Lando and his friends.

“I dunno, you were making some _pretty_ loud sounds for something that was just okay.” He drops his phone on the bedside table and turns his body to face the Ferrari driver, placing a hand on the leg still hidden by the covers, and wonders how long it will take Charles to pick up on his not so subtle teasing.

“Well, guess I’m a good actor.” His green eyes are following Max’s every movement, so the older man makes sure to move his hand as slowly as possible over his leg, his fingers barely touching the body underneath. He moves it up, making his touch a little heavier when the covers give way to the skin of Charles’ abdomen and the Monégasque squirms a little.

“Yes, such a good actor, Charles.” He agrees sarcastically. “I guess I could say you’re pretty like one too.”

There’s a blush spreading from the younger man’s cheeks all the way to his neck and Max wants to trace it with his tongue, but he settles for doing it with his fingers for now. He feels the shuddering breath that Charles takes in and it’s making Max’s head spin, the effect he can have on this beautiful man beneath him. He’s noticing it a lot more lately and still can’t give a name to the things it makes him feel, but he’s getting a little addicted to it.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Is the answer he gets in a forced-casual tone, but it makes the Red Bull driver laugh loudly, his whole seducing act falling apart. “What’s so funny about that?” Charles asks with a mixture of confusion and unhappiness.

“Oh, I guess it’s because I have it on good authority that you don’t think that.” Max says and sits up on the bed, making the covers fall down to his waist and getting an appreciative once-over that makes his blood rush south even faster than it already was. “In fact, I would say that I’m 100% sure that you find me, what was the word, pretty.”

It’s so entertaining watching as Charles’ face flicks through embarrassment, confusion, realization and then even more embarrassment, that Max wants to laugh again. He settles for a smile as the younger man’s face goes even redder and he averts his eyes, sitting up on the bed like he’s going to bolt.

Max throws out an arm to catch him around the waist before he can do it, though, pressing his chest to Charles’ back.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Charlie,” He starts, shoulders shaking with the urge to laugh. “Seriously, I think it’s cute. And you were so flustered by it too, I can’t believe Ferrari didn’t take pity on you and cut the whole thing.” That’s a lie, he knows that Ferrari’s PR team would never pass up on an opportunity to embarrass their drivers, especially Charles. It’s probably a team effort, really, considering the things the engineers and mechanics have been doing to them; this one is just infinitely more amusing.

“Shut up,” The man mumbles and even the back of his neck is flushing, this is so good. “I asked Silvia to, but she said that there was no reason, it was just some harmless fun. I didn’t even think that they would post that, it’s been two weeks.”

“I’m really glad they did. I mean, I haven’t watched the whole thing yet, Lando just sent me the part where you’re calling me pretty, but I’m sure it was all very funny.”

“ _Lando_ sent it to you?” The Monégasque exclaims and turns around as much as he can, trapped in Max’s hold as he is, and the older driver relaxes his arm a little. Charles’ eyes are wide and his face is completely red. “No, no… He is never going to stop talking about that now, it’s bad enough that I had to endure Seb’s teasing.”

“Oh, please tell me about that. He looked so amused, I bet he didn’t leave you alone for a second after you recorded it.” Max replies with a huge smile, trying to think of all the ways that the German driver might have found to annoy Charles.

“No way, you’re already making fun of me, I’m not going to give you more things.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Max replies and squeezes Charles against him, moving his face down so he can press his nose to the other man’s cheek and nuzzle it gently. 

“No, you are not going to charm me this time.”

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” He replies with a smirk and feels one of his boyfriend’s hands come up to grasp his hair.

“I am very sure. I’m not going to fall for the whole sweet act, you’re evil.” His words are softened by the way he turns his face and presses their lips together, pulling back just a little so they can look at each other without going cross eyed.

Max doesn’t let him go far. He leans forward and captures Charles’ lips again, using the arms around his waist to press them closer.

They lose themselves in it, hands touching each other’s bodies and mouths moving between lips and necks until Charles pushes Max to lie back on the bed, straddling his hips and diving right back into the Dutchman’s mouth.

A while later, as they’re both catching their breath after some extremely pleasant activities, Charles leans his head on his arm and stares at Max with such an intense look on his face that the older driver finds himself fighting a blush.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know,” He seems to be back to his confident self, smiling cockily at Max. “You really are very pretty.”

And that breaks Max’s brain. For all that he’s been making fun of Charles for his words, hearing it directly from him when they’re both still sweaty and sticky makes his insides squirm. The Ferrari driver looks extremely pleased with himself and Max tries to kick start his brain back again, clearing his throat and fixing his gaze on Charles’ shoulder instead of his eyes.

“Thanks,” He is _so lame,_ what kind of answer is that?

“Anytime, gorgeous.” He looks up just in time to catch Charles giving one of his atrocious attempts at winking, before leaning down and covering Max’s stupidly fond smile with his mouth.


End file.
